Page 25 of On The Run

Max was so close to me, I couldn’t focus on anything but his presence surrounding me. Normally, I hated being cornered like this, but all I wanted to do was rub myself all over him like a damn cat. I couldn’t think, couldn’t form words. I knew Max just said something very important and it warranted a response, but my brain wouldn’t work, and I didn’t know what to say.

Max didn’t rush me though. He also didn’t move. He stayed right where he was, watching me with those eyes that had featured in most of my fantasies lately.

After an eternity, I processed his words. I still didn’t have a good response to him. I couldn’t let him be that person for me. I just couldn’t. It was the same thing as dating. It was an attachment that wasn’t fair to him. And me. I was pretty sure if I got any closer to him, I’d be permanently broken when I had to leave.

I couldn’t reject him though. It was just like when he asked me out on the date. I was powerless to say no. “I can’t answer the questions I know you want to ask.”

He raised his hands in front of him. “No pressure. I promise I’ll keep them to myself.”

I believed him. I knew it wouldn’t last, but maybe I’d get a few weeks reprieve at least. “A-And I can’t give you that kind of friendship—the kind you have with your friend out there. I-I’m sorry. I don’t know how, even if I wanted to. But, what I said on the text is real. I’d like to get to know you better and see if we can become friends. As long as we keep it casual. Please—” It was a plea, and I knew he could see it. I was begging him to accept these terms and not push for more. It was unfair of me to ask this of him, but Max seemed to bring out this selfish side of me. I couldn’t let him go completely.

I thought he was going to reject my counteroffer, not that I’d blame him. Instead, he caressed my jaw one last time before stepping away, finally allowing me to breathe. “I understand. And I accept, for now. Just know, my offer still stands and always will, no matter what.”

And with those last words, Max gave me one last meaningful stare before slipping back through the propped door and to his family. I didn’t move for long moments, just trying to get my breath back. Seventeen years of running from my abusive, psychopathic sperm donor didn’t break me. Countless bruises, broken bones, nights sleeping in shelters and behind dumpsters didn’t break me. Cleaning the blood from Pops and setting his broken bones in a shitty hotel afterhefound us, yet again, didn’t break me. But Max Campbell? Yeah, he was going to be what finally did me in.

Chapter11

Max

“Hi, Aiden,”I said to the man in question as I slipped into the booth.

Aiden smiled brightly as he pulled out his ear buds and put down his e-reader. In the three weeks since we’d had our conversation in the alley of the coffee shop, I’d become dangerously addicted to those smiles. He placed his e-reader next to one of those baggies of trail mix that he seemed to always have. I learned recently that it was his guilty pleasure and was always munching on it.

“Hi! How’s work been going?”

“Pretty good. Flooding has caused some issues, so I’ve been on location most of the morning. That’s why I was running a little late.”

Aiden shrugged and gestured to his book. “I don’t mind. I probably should be doing homework, but I can’t seem to put this book down.”

I smiled warmly at him as I peeked at the device, but it was just on a random page, and I couldn’t tell what the title was. This had been his MO for all three lunches that we’d had together. He’d state he should be studying but he’d be reading and listening to music instead. It was adorable and yet another little quirk I found myself falling for, despite my best efforts.

We’d been taking things at a snail’s pace since our talk a few weeks ago, and I completely changed tactics. We hadn’t met outside of the café again, but once a week, in addition to my morning routine with Gray, I’d been meeting Aiden here after his shift ended, which was basically my lunch break.

I would love to get him out of the safety of the coffee shop and away from Anna’s nosy eyes, but Aiden wasn’t ready for that. Getting him to agree to a weekly lunch had been a huge step.

Sad to say, the lunches had been the highlight of my weeks. Everything had been strictly platonic and very surface level, but still, every time, Aiden warmed up to me just a little bit more. He even texted me a few memes throughout the past week, his first attempt at contact outside this place.

“What are you listening to today?” I asked as I stretched out my legs under the table. My foot accidentally brushed up against Aiden’s ankle. I saw him startle, but he didn’t move his legs, so I took my time before moving mine, just lightly brushing the toe of my boot against his ankle before bringing it to the side.

Aiden made eye contact with me, and I noticed just the faintest of shudders before he composed himself. “Oh, it’s The Clash.” For some reason, Aiden was mostly tight-lipped about what he was reading, but he was more than willing to share his music with me. I’d take whatever I could get.

“Nice. Your music taste still impresses me. Most days, I just listen to top 40 stations.”

Aiden shrugged. “Nothing wrong with that. What did you bring for lunch today?” he asked, peeking over to my bag like he could somehow see through the thick fabric and into my lunch.

I grinned and waggled my eyebrows. “It’s a surprise, but I think you’ll enjoy it.”

Fuck, this man’s smile. I thought I’d do anything to keep it on his face. “Yeah?”

I just nodded, trying not to bounce in my seat like Gray. I had never been much of a cook before my son came into my life, but with having a 6-year-old, cooking started to become a necessity. And I found that I enjoyed it. Most of my other hobbies, like working out or mountain biking, kind of got pushed to the wayside, but cooking filled up those spots, and it was something I could do with and for Gray. So, win-win.

The first week, I shared my lunch with Aiden on accident. We had agreed to meet, but we were each bringing our own food. And then Aiden was practically salivating at my pulled pork sandwich, so I split it with him. Seeing his pure joy while eating it, and making a valiant effort to not imagine him making those faces while doing something more NSFW, was something special. So of course, for week two, I made two buffalo chicken salads and packed extra homemade bleu cheese dressing, as well as some garlic bread on the side.

I didn’t say anything about making lunch for the two of us this week, but Aiden didn’t bring any, so I was glad I decided to make this a thing. His gaze was laser focused on my bag, and the tip of his tongue was peeking out from those full lips. It made me happy knowing that he allowed me to care for him, even in this small way. He was so guarded with his personal life and insistent on his autonomy with even the most innocent of things, so I was thrilled when he took half my sandwich the first day and didn’t balk at his own salad the second week.

I still had questions that I knew I couldn’t ask. The way he looked at the food sometimes, like it may be the only meal he had that day, had me wondering a little bit more about his personal life. I didn’t get the impression that he and his pops were struggling badly right now, so maybe it was just left over from his childhood. While Aiden never said he had food insecurities as a kid, some of the references he made caused me to think it wasn’t always the easiest thing to come by.

While I didn’t think it was the case anymore, every time I watched him visibly slow down and force himself to eat slower, it made me wonder. I didn’t notice it so much on our first date attempt, but I may have been distracted, or maybe he was being extra careful. Either way, I considered bringing enough for him to bring back to his father, but I didn’t know if that would go over well.

---